Stillwell Avenue

Confusion and disbelief

A time of hate, a time of grief

Who is guilty, who’s to blame?

Fingers point and people shout

The warriors from Coney

It was them, there is no doubt!

Stillwell Avenue

An army of thousands, is looking, is searching

Willing to find and kill, in the subway, in the streets

Stillwell Avenue

Every yard feels like a mile – The legs hurt, the lungs burn

Countless gangs are in the way, a way home, that’s long

You see what you get when you mess with the Orphans?

Run and hide, hide and fight

With your fists, bats and knives

There's noone, who'll help you

You yourself, will see this through

Down at the beach – A warrior is truly free

And the Rogues will pay the price

Stillwell Avenue

The final rendezvous